


Sweets Before Supper

by OstelanExcruciasm



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, Fluff, Implied Relationships, M/M, Massage, Oral Sex, Promnis - Freeform, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:13:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27684067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OstelanExcruciasm/pseuds/OstelanExcruciasm
Summary: Prompto notices that an overworked Ignis needs a little help relaxing and decides to give him a hand, among other things.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Ignis Scientia
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	Sweets Before Supper

Prompto and Ignis have a very unique intimacy to their relationship. Their dynamic is smooth. Thoughtful. Ask either one of them to describe it and they can’t. But there’s a mutual understanding that they are most certainly  _ not _ simply each other’s “second choice.” Ignis doesn’t take Prompto when he can’t have Gladio, and Prompto doesn’t go for Ignis when Noct is busy. It’s simply different, the spaces they fill for each other. Each has their strengths, their weaknesses. Together, they are pieces to one complete puzzle. It’s what makes the four of them so perfectly compatible.

Prompto is always looking out for Ignis, because he knows Ignis is looking out for him. He’s so deeply appreciative, and maybe if he admits it to himself, a little insecure. He wants to make Ignis happy. He wants him to feel comfortable and at ease. So when he notices that the poor man has been run ragged between his duties with Noct at the citadel and his training with Gladio, Prompto intervenes. He nearly has to wrangle the dishes and rag from his hands and coax him out of his shoes and glasses, but Ignis does in fact relent, if a bit reluctantly.  _ Just a massage,  _ he promises.  _ You’ll feel better. _

It wasn’t inherently sexual at first. Prompto has soft hands, and though he’s no professional by any means, it feels nice to anyone when his delicate fingers press into their sorest knots. With Ignis, he starts at the top, circling his thumbs in the center of his forehead and slowly dragging out toward his temples. Gradually working his way down, Prompto doesn’t miss an inch of him. Across the shoulders, down the forearms, he even spends several minutes on each hand, kneading out every muscle until Ignis has melted into a puddle on his sofa.

Maybe it’s the way Prompto is leaning in — close enough for Ignis to smell the mint on his breath — that shifts things for him. Or maybe he isn’t used to feeling so relaxed. A massage from Gladio is nice, but it’s a  _ workout. _ A massage from Prompto is  _ indulgent _ . As his tense, aching muscles are unlocked one-by-one, Ignis cannot help but feel things growing tighter elsewhere, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before Prompto discovers it.

And discover it he does. Prompto first notices the way Ignis’s eyelids flutter as a dazed look spreads over his face. He catches the faint hint of pink coloring his cheeks and the beads of sweat at his hairline. And, if he listens closely enough, he can hear the man’s breathing pick up in pace. He glances down and confirms what he already knew — Ignis is hard as a rock.

“Hey, Iggy,” Prompto asks, nothing but kindness in his voice. “How about I take care of you?”

Ignis knows precisely what those words mean, and he twitches at the prospect. “You’ve already taken care of me. I believe I’ve merged with the sofa.”

Prompto erupts in that perfect little laugh of his. Always playful, always lighthearted. But he’s quite serious the very next moment when his hand slides up Ignis’s thigh. He hovers over his lips, only a breath away and daring Ignis to close the gap. Daring the man to kiss him.

“I want you to feel good,” he whispers amorously. “I mean,  _ really _ good. You deserve it.”

Heart racing and nerves on fire, Ignis already feels incredible. Prompto’s fingers tugging at his trousers — close enough to make him stiffen but far enough away to drive him mad — beckon him for the go-ahead. He can hardly stand the delay. He needs this, and he needs it  _ now. _

With one hand, he reaches behind Prompto’s head and pulls him in for that long-awaited kiss. With the other, he guides those eager fingers to their destination. The friction inside his briefs is almost painful, and he throbs at the sensation of Prompto releasing the buttons and the zipper. In a few swift movements, he’s freed, shuddering at the sudden shock of cool air on his skin. The chill is warmed almost immediately by Prompto’s hand, gripping him just as he likes it, sliding sensually up and down his length.

Before the first stroke is even completed, Ignis throws his head back, reluctantly breaking the kiss to catch his breath. Prompto knows  _ just _ how to handle him,  _ just _ where to touch. He requires no guidance, no instruction. Ignis can truly and fully relax into the pleasure, and  _ gods _ is it heavenly. He braves a peek, lifting his head just in time to see Prompto settling onto his knees in front of him. He almost wishes he’d kept his glasses on — all the better to see what’s about to happen with perfect clarity. Ignis barely has enough time to brace himself before those soft lips make contact with hard flesh.

The raspy moan is involuntary. Short enough to be a whimper, deep enough to be a grunt. Prompto grins when he hears it, always having delighted in the sounds Ignis makes. He glances up often to catch the blissful grimace on his face, the way he grits his teeth and furrows his brows. The fingers raked in his hair tighten their curl, and Prompto feels him stiffen against his tongue.

He pulls off with a sloppy sounding pop, quickly following with a few strokes of his hand. “You feeling good, Iggy?”

He doesn’t need the answer. He can already tell he’s doing a good job. But there’s something extra special about hearing Ignis say the words, hearing him praise his work with  _ that voice. _ More air than pitch, so low as to be a growl. Prompto’s whole body shivers whenever Ignis talks that way.

“Gods, yes,” he answers between heavy exhales. “How can I ever repay you...?”

“No need for that,” Prompto grins against him, planting wet kisses along his shaft. “The look on your face is enough.”

Watching Prompto take care of  _ anyone _ is a sight in and of itself. His movements are elegant, practiced, and almost exaggerated, like a stage actor who has to do everything twice as big. But as Ignis gazes down at Prompto, taking in the scene of him fully immersed in the treatment he was giving, he knew that the man was not acting. He can see in the way that Prompto lifts his eyes, searching him for approval. The sound of his voice when he checks in periodically. And the way his face lights up at every reaction that breaks through Ignis’s composure. Prompto gets off on pleasing others. It’s just a well-known fact by now, and Ignis can only hope he’s giving his friend a good show.

He doesn’t want it to end. It’s too good to let it end. But he can’t resist that familiar sensation blooming in his pelvis and spreading through him like wildfire. That warmth that fills his core and the ripples of tension in his musculature. The telltale signs of his impending release have already crept up on him, and he’s certain Prompto knows about it too. His motions accelerate, the pressure intensifies, and he can feel those widened eyes watching him intently.

“Ah... Prompto...” he pants, barely summoning the breath to warn him. “You should move away before...!”

His warning is too late. He isn’t able to finish the sentence before his climax overtakes him. The release grips him fiercely and he feels himself emptying into Prompto’s waiting mouth as the pleasure crests inside him. His body begins to clench in rhythmic spasms and he involuntarily bucks his hips, sinking deep enough to feel the vibration in Prompto’s throat as he hums in delight against him. It’s perfect. It’s stunning. It’s everything he needed  _ and then some. _ Prompto’s name hovers silently on his lips as he allows himself to be swept away by the euphoria.

Prompto can hardly contain himself. Watching Ignis come is a treat unlike any other. He twitches and convulses in his grasp. His face pulls into that tight wince before it relaxes into bliss. His jaw hangs open like he could scream, and though he never does, Prompto knows how much he wants to. How loud he would be, were his inhibitions lowered just a bit.

“Ah...!”

Prompto savors the chorus of gasps as Ignis climbs to that staggering peak and explodes into his throat. He ignores the warning and sinks even deeper, letting himself take Ignis’s full length as he finishes. The response is everything he dreamed it would be. He wants the man to feel good. He wants him to feel the best he’s ever felt. He’ll gladly choke on him if that’s what it takes.

When Ignis climaxes with Gladio, the peak is intense. Forceful. A string of curses erupt from his mouth. With Noct, it’s slow. Sensual. He sighs a prayer of praise and gratitude. With Prompto, he’s speechless. The sensations are so warm, so divine. He has no words. He can only deflate with a satisfied, gravely moan as he comes down from the heights.

When at last the climax has wound down, Prompto is just as lost for words as Ignis. “Wow.”

Ignis finally finds his voice again as he peeks down at Prompto’s face. “Gods... Prompto...” he breathes, almost wanting to laugh when he sees how his poor friend’s cheeks have been soiled. “My apologies for the mess...”

Already reaching for a box of tissues, Prompto just giggles. “Don’t sweat it,” he flashes a smile. “It must have been awhile.”

Ignis thinks for a moment, somewhat embarrassed to confess. “I admit, it has been… quite some time.”

“Then you needed it,” Prompto’s newly clean mouth beams with delight and he tosses a couple of used tissues into the nearby waste basket. He climbs to his feet, making ready to leave. “Glad I could help.”

The buzz is wearing off and as his mind clears, Ignis remembers the chores he’s left undone. Prompto likely has places to be and things to do as well. He was honest when he said it had been awhile. He’d let himself get wrapped up in his work, too busy for company, too tired for gratification of any kind. For weeks now, he’s gotten by on early morning text messages, bento breaks in the office, and pecks on the cheek in passing. He can’t remember when he last went to bed with anything other than a good book, or woke up to any other face than that of his clock. By now, he’s more than just pent up — he’s lonesome, and something in him can’t just let Prompto go.

He reaches for his friend’s wrist and takes hold before he can get too far away. “Wait.”

Prompto looks confused when he turns around. Ignis stands, plucking up the courage to make his request. “Let me take care of you.”

Prompto seems to ponder the invitation for just a moment — only long enough to send Ignis almost into the throes of anxiety. He strokes his chin, his lips curling into an eager grin. “What did you have in mind?”

Ignis takes a step closer and links his fingers between Prompto’s. “Dinner. Dessert,” he answers with a smirk. “And the best breakfast you’ve ever had.”

As he dips in for a long kiss on Prompto’s neck, Ignis hears the airy gasp in his throat and feels his pulse thumping beneath the skin. He’s not sure why he ever worried that Prompto might refuse. The blonde’s eyes light up with that signature sunny smile of his, and Ignis has his answer. Maybe he’s just excited over the prospect of a good meal. Maybe he’ll gorge himself on sugary sweets and fall asleep. Maybe he’ll not wake until noon and forego breakfast altogether. They could make love, or they could paint their nails and watch bad horror films. It doesn’t matter to Ignis. Whatever the evening holds for them, he’s thrilled that he won’t be spending it by himself.

Ask either one of them, and they still can’t explain it. They meet different needs for each other, and they’re perfectly content to let it remain a mystery. But what’s certain, now more than ever, is that they were indeed never each other’s “second choice.” Ignis takes care of Prompto because he knows that Prompto will always have his back. He wants to make him happy. He wants him to feel comfortable and at ease. He would choose Prompto again and again, and tonight he’s made it his goal to ensure that his young and insecure friend will never forget that.

_ You deserve it. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Peace and Love,  
> Ostelan


End file.
